Poison
by Aribh1306
Summary: If intelligence was a family thing, Tom was sure he hadn't inherited it from his father.  AU


**Warning:** incest, NC-17, character death and huge Alternative Universe... If you don't like it, don't read it, please. Also, the story was not corrected by any beta reader ):

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**Poison**

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Everything was perfectly planned, there was no reason for it to go wrong, it _couldn't_ go wrong. Since he had found out about that man, he had started to plan everything… He discovered the other traveled to London at least once every month to take care of some family business there and stayed in a pretty decent apartment near the Vauxhall Road. It was perfect. Vauxhall was inside his area. Everything that happened there would end up in his hands, every body found around that place would end up under his care. It was perfect.

The most complicated part of his plan would be to approach the man without scaring him. After all, one didn't have to have the best sight in the world to notice that they were realeted to each other. The only way was to get him when he was dizzy, which was possible after a few days following him, discovering that he often went to a pub near his apartment… After watching him for some time, seeing the man drink at least four glasses of whiskey, Tom made his approach.

The young Riddle started talking to him, seeing how the other didn't seem to recognize him, which was great. After some words, a few more glasses of whiskey and some almost too audacious touches, the man was already opening the door of his home to him. Tom had to restrain himself from laughing… It was so much easier that he had expected it to be.

Everything that happened next seemed to be blurred by the expectation of getting what he really wanted by the end of the night. Tom didn't mind when the other tossed him on his bed and started to undress him, neither when he started to kiss him and explore his whole body with his hands. No, nothing seemed to bother him at that time… Let the man have some fun before his plan came to an end, it wouldn't hurt anyone if he did so.

"You're handsome." The words whispered in his ears made him smile… He didn't know if it was because the other man was being sweet or if it was because these words made him look like an idiot.

"I know."

"And humble." The other laughed, circling his waist with his arms and pulling him closer, leaning down his head to kiss his neck.

"It must be a family thing."

"Yes, it must be."

The way the man was looking at him worried Tom. _He knew_. He knew who he was. He knew it was his son that was spreading his legs to him on that bed._ He knew…_ But didn't knew everything, didn't knew what he was everything he was planning.

"Whiskey doesn't affect you as much as I thought," the younger one whispered, letting a smug smile appear on his lips.

"I'm used to it," the man leaned down, lying his son down on the bed, and kissed him, "What's your name?"

"What do you think?"

His father's hand went to his face. His thumb caressed his cheeks and then his lips while the older man watched him… It was weird, as if there was a copy of himself looking down at him.

"Tom?"

"It's not difficult to get it right," the younger one whispered, grasping the other's shirt and pulling him down, "Now:_ shut up_."

"Petulant," his father muttered against his lips while Tom managed to undress him as quick as possible.

"Just like you."

He had never done that before. It was weird, uncomfortable, painful… But, somehow, pleasant. Or maybe it was only pleasant because of the kisses and touches the other man distributed along his body, because the act was nothing more than uncomfortable. No… What was he talking about? It was pleasant, otherwise he wouldn't be clinging to his father so desperately, breathing heavily while moaning and screaming nonsense things. He hated that. He hated to see how his body betrayed him… He should be concentrated, focusing on his plan and not… Not begging for kisses and touches.

But, _fuck concentration_, that was good.

His worries only came back when everything ended and the only things that remained were their heavy breaths, some kisses and a few quick caresses. He turned his face to look at the man, locking his blue eyes in those which were exactly like his. His father extended his arm to touch his face, sliding his fingers along his forehead, cheeks, nose, lips… He took his time on the lips before moving on to his chin, jaw and then moving up again to touch his dark hair.

"Like what you see?"

"What do you think?"

The younger male smiled before looking away and sitting up on the bed. He heard the other muttering something about him being able to stay during the night if he wanted to, but ignored the offer, picking up his shirt from the floor and lazily putting it on. Now there was only one thing he needed to do.

"May I ask what do you do for a living?" Tom asked while he got up and walked over to the bag he had brought with him.

"I take care of some properties my family owns here at London." Turning his head quickly, the younger Riddle saw that the man was now lying down on his stomach, with his head resting on a pillow he was holding. "But I'm graduated into Architecture."

"Really?" Tom put his hand inside the bag and found what he was looking for, "And why don't you work in that area?"

Getting up and walking in the other's direction, the younger male noticed that the he didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"It's the family business, you see? My parents want me to take care of it… I mean, my father almost disowned me when I choose to study Architecture instead of Administration or Economy," his father answered, "What do _you_ do for a living?"

"Me?"

Tom smiled, climbing on the bed once again and, putting one leg on each side of the other's body, sitting down on the curve of the man's back. Leaning down until he was completely lying atop the older Riddle, he whispered on his ear: "I have a pretty noble profession," he turned his face, kissing his father's shoulder softly, "I'm a doctor… A forensic… pathologist."

Tom Riddle Sr. didn't had time to register what his son had just said as, before he could do so, he felt something stabbing his flesh just bellow his arm. The smile on the younger male's lips widened as he felt the other trying to get away from him. Tom took out the needle from his father's flesh and threw the serynge away, before grasping on the other's dark hair, forcing his head down, letting his body weight compress the man down on the mattress.

"What the hell did you do?"

"Six minutes."

"What?"

"You have six minutes before your heart stops beating," Tom laughed, "Do you have anything to say?"

"You're mad!"

"It was you who let the stranger into your house," the younger one kissed some tears that were now slipping from his father's eyes, "Five."

_"Murderer…!"_

"What happened to the _'handsome'_ and the _'great'_?"

His father continued to mumble incomprehensible things… A great waste of last minutes of life in Tom's opinion, but what could he do? The life wasn't his and the only thing he could do was to watch… Watch as each part of the other's body lost its life slowly. He leaned his forehead against the back of the man's head and stayed like that until Tom Riddle's voice disappeared, until his finger's loosened their grips on the sheets… Until life was completly vanished from that body.

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He looked at the photos he held in his hands, letting a faint smile appear on his lips while he stared at the pictures of a deep cut on a pale wrist of a man. The coagulated blood aroung the wound contrasted in an almost beautiful way against the light color of his skin… That made him smile.

Suicide was his last sentence for that case. It made sense, didn't it? A man in his fifties, found dead on the bathroom of his apartment with his wrist cut open… The knife next to the body and the small cuts around the fatal wound confirmed the hypothesis. The man, for some some unknown reason, sat down next to the bathtub, where he let the faucet open, letting the water fall over the cut, which explained the lack of an abundant quantity of blood that was often found on suicides scenes like that. The fact that he cut only one of his wrists could be explained too: a small calculi mistake, a cut made too deep and his tendon was gone… Without tendon there was no way for him to held the knife and do the same work on his other arm, but that wasn't a problem at all... The first and only cut was enough to kill him.

The reason for taking his life? Apparently the said man had a miserable life after a unexpected marriage with a girl who had a certain bad reputation… His parents never forgave him for staining their family's name, his professional life was frustrated, the only woman he had ever loved had married another man and the only happiness in his life was the whiskey. Done. Any forensic psychiatrist would agree that he had more than enough reasons to kill himself.

It was a good report, really good… Tom wish he was another person so he could congratulate himself for having discovered all those things. Or was for making it all up? Well, it didn't matter… It was a genius' work.

He smiled, looking at the photos once again… If intelligence was a family thing, Tom was sure he hadn't inherited it from his father.

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**A/N**: I finished this story at two in the morning x_x This fanfiction followed the line of my multi-chaptered fanfiction **Coroner Stories**, which is a AU in which Tom Riddle Jr is a forensic pathologist... But Coroner is a TomHermione fanfiction, so Riddle doesn't have any kinda of relationship with his father... at least not like the one in this fic '-'

**1- Vauxhall Road:** in Chamber of Secrets Harry sees that the diary of Tom Riddle was bought at the Vauxhall Road, right? That's why I chose it.

**2- "The knife next to the body and the small cuts around the fatal wound confirmed the hypothesis.":** the tiny cuts around the deeper wound are called 'hesitation wounds' and are often found on bodies of people who commited suicide by cutting their wrists/throats. You see, it's when the person is not sure if he/she'll actually commit suicide or not... If there's a lack of hesitation cuts, the pathologists suspect that it wasn't really a suicide.

**3- "[...]which explained the lack of abundant quantity of blood that was often found on suicides scenes like that.":** when his wrist was cut, Tom Sr was already dead, so he wouldn't bleed as much thanks to the fact his heart wasn't pumping his blood anymore... So Tom Jr had to make it seems that his dad had simply gotten ridden of the blood by letting the water washing it away. No one else would know that Tom Sr's body still have too much blood for someone who died by bleeding as Tom Jr would do the autopsy.

**4- "Any forensic psychiatrist would agree that he had more than enough reasons to kill himself."**: in suicide's cases, a forensic psychiatrist is often called to determine the reason why the person decided to kill himself/herself.

**5- "You have six minutes before your heart stops beating.":** Tom Jr injected Potassium on his father. The potassium is used on death sentences and messes up with the eletricity difference in and out the nervous cells of various muscles... Thanks to that, the heart's muscle will stop. It takes from 7 to 6 minutes for a person to die from a potassium injection, if I'm not wrong.

While writing it, I couldn't help but remember a quote from Neil Gaiman's "A Study in Emerald": _' Indeed. I hate to say this, but it is my experience that when a doctor goes to the bad, he is a fouler and darker creature than the worst cut-throat.'_

I used some books for research:  
Guide to Forensic Pathology ( Jat Dix, MD, and Robert Caladuce, MD) and Handbook of Forensic Pathology (whose author's name I don't remember right now).

This fanfiction was written for my friend, **Moownk**, who asked me to write something that had TomTom with the themes: death, sex and photos.

Hope you liked it :D Reviews are always great, you guys know that (:

**Ari.**


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